A conversation with myself

P: Oh, Mrs. Lucken, you should really spend more time on here. You could use the therapy!

Mrs. Lucken: I know, I know...but I'm really tired of being that sad person complaining about things all the time, or the mom who has something cute she wants to remember her Cub saying, or the breast cancer survivor. Plus, time is so precious these days, and I feel like if I waste any of it, I'm sad for having wasted it. I actually have a sheet of paper in my kitchen where I am keeping track of how I am wasting my time, so that I don't make the same mistake the next day!

P: I hear ya. However, it isn't like you are going to see a therapist soon...and your husband has little patience for the tears. So start writing.

Mrs. Lucken: Hey, hey! He's a good guy! He just wants me to be better, and has a very low tolerance for depressive episodes before he starts freaking out.

P: Well, whatever. You have some grieving to do, so get to it. You can become rah-rah Pam again sometime soon, but you've got to be sad Pam first. You have a right to it, you know.

Mrs. Lucken: Well, how about YOU write? I'm the one who has kids and pets and a husband to worry about. If you want to be all self-actualized and delve into your grief, you go right ahead!

P: FINE then. I think I will.

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